Page 212 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8

Allegra moved out of the shadows of the front entrance, onto the small, tiled portico.

Her nails were neat but manicured, and her smile was broad and welcoming, even when there was a hint of something in her eyes that spoke of doubt. Worry.

Which made precisely zero sense. If there was anyone on earth who was more than capable of handling themselves, it was Dante.

Even if he was hotter than Hades and richer than sin, and therefore probably batting off fortune hunters with a stick, this wasDante. A man who didn’t suffer fools gladly and who would never be taken advantage of by anyone.

Whether because he too perceived a slight hint of concern in his grandmother’s features, or just because he’d primed himself to give an award-winning performance from the minute they arrived, Dante was at her side even before Charlotte realised he’d gotten out of the car He had one arm around her waist as he pulled her to his side and leaned down to whisper, ‘This will not work if you look like you’re about to get a root canal, Shaw.’

He was right, of course. There was a lot riding on the next week. She had to nail this. She glanced up at him and tried to imbue her features with an emotion she’d never personally felt—nor wanted to feel—love and smiled wide.

Apparently it worked. Or at least Dante registered the change, because his eyes widened for a moment, his lips compressed and the fingers at her side dug in a little, almost as if he couldn’t help but tether himself to something real and physical, before walking forwards, his arm around her waist bringing her with him, whether her legs would oblige or not.

‘Darling,’ Allegra spoke in accented English, presumably out of deference to Charlotte. And Charlotte was glad. While she spoke passable Italian, it had been a while since she’d used it, and she suspected it was pretty rusty. ‘Welcome, welcome,’ she cooed.

Dante dropped his arm from around Charlotte’s waist for a moment, so he could wrap his petite grandmother in an embrace and kiss her cheeks. ‘It is good to see you, my Dante,’ she said, face lighting up as if a thousand globes were behind her eyes. ‘But you look too thin. You are not eating enough,’ she tsked, then turned to Charlotte. ‘He is never well looked after, except for here.’

Charlotte suppressed—just—a laugh, as she nodded and assumed an expression of serious contemplation. ‘He is at risk of fading away,’ she murmured, thinking the exact opposite. While there wasn’t an ounce of unnecessary fat on Dante, that was because his body had been sculpted into a form of muscle and strength. He was definitely not a waif. Allegra just had whatever the grandmotherly equivalent of rose-tinted glasses was.

Dante arched a brow and even though he didn’t speak, Charlotte could practicallyhearhis thoughts.You’ve never complained about my body before.

True that.

‘And you have brought someone home with you,’ Allegra continued, walking, with a slight limp, until she was close enough to look properly at Charlotte.

‘Yes,Nonna. I wanted you to meet Charlotte, so that we could tell you our news, in person.’

Allegra went quite still, not quite touching Charlotte, though it had been her intention, Charlotte deduced, a moment ago. ‘Your news?’ She turned back to Dante, her back ramrod straight.

Dante was similarly still, assessing. This, after all, was the moment of truth for him. To see how well his grandmother would take the engagement and if it would alleviate the worries that he’d confided in Charlotte the older woman had been experiencing.

‘We’re getting married.’

Allegra paled a little, looking from Dante to Charlotte and back again. ‘I’m sorry. Did you say—are you actually engaged?’

Her eyes dropped to Charlotte’s hands, which were shaking a little. The ring was right there though, sparkly and beautiful, and, she realised, just the kind of ring Dante’s grandmother would expect him to give the woman he loved. A gold band would never have sufficed. Not if this was to seem genuine.

So he’d chosen something big and stunning, whilst still keeping to her request that it not be a diamond that could be seen from outer space.

‘To this woman?’ Allegra repeated, glancing at Charlotte. Charlotte felt sympathy for Allegra because this news had clearly come totally out of the blue.

A muscle ticked in Dante’s jaw as he stepped forward. Charlotte had thought he might be going to comfort his grandmother, to offer her support, but instead, it was Charlotte he crossed to, wrapping an arm back around her waist and pulling her to his side. She partly resented it—because it was just the kind of thing a man might do if he thought a woman needed his protection, for him to act like a shield, and that was definitely not Charlotte’s shtick. She didn’t need anyone and never would.

At the same time, his show of loyalty—even when she knew it was make-believe—was as warming as it was unnecessary.

‘I know this must seem like a surprise,’ Charlotte murmured, wondering if it was making things better or worse for her to speak, but knowing that she had too much riding on the success of this introduction to risk a negative impression. ‘Dante insisted we tell you in person.’

‘I wanted you to meet my fiancé,’ he said, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at Charlotte, doing an impersonation of a totally besotted fiancé that was every bit as spot on as her own had been a few moments earlier.

‘I presumed you must be bringing a lady friend,’ Allegra said, apparently bringing her surprise back in control. ‘I just didn’t know how serious it would be. My darling,’ she approached Charlotte now, eyes blinking rapidly. ‘Forgive me for my reaction. My grandson has always—how do you say it? Played his cards at his chest?’

Charlotte smiled kindly, relieved that the first hurdle was actually more of a minor speed bump.

‘We’ve only just become engaged,’ she promised. Then, with sincerity, ‘You’re the first person we’ve told.’

Allegra’s eyes lit up. ‘This calls for a celebration,’ she clapped her hands together. ‘Rosaria! Rosaria!’ Her voice was loud and she turned quickly, striding back inside the doors of the house. ‘Prosecco on the terrace,’ she called, before whirling around to face them. ‘How wonderful. Now, come on, I must hear absolutely everything,’ she said, finally reaching for Charlotte and drawing her into an embrace. ‘Welcome, my darling girl. Welcome to our family.’

Charlotte smiled, even when it felt, strangely, like a small part of her was withering and dying in response to such unexpected and wholesome kindness. And love. The kind of love she’d always shunned because it was easier to shun love than it was to seek it and know the pain of rejection.